


Vacancy

by Lomonaaeren



Series: From Samhain to the Solstice 2019 [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Infidelity, M/M, Past Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy/Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lomonaaeren/pseuds/Lomonaaeren
Summary: Coming home to an empty house, Draco finds himself disconcerted. Severus is more than that. But neither of them have any idea how to fill the house back up again.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Male Character(s)
Series: From Samhain to the Solstice 2019 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532687
Comments: 49
Kudos: 1064





	Vacancy

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of “From Samhain to the Solstice” fics for this year. This is the sequel to “Never Come Back Home,” as requested by several people

Draco smiled a little as he stepped out of the Floo. His evening with Astoria had been more than satisfying. It had been years since he felt so _seen_ , since he knew that the person listening to his words was truly listening and not just waiting for a place in the conversation where they could jump in.

Harry and Severus never listened. They said they’d heard it before and Draco should stop complaining and get a new job. But how did they _know_ how hard that would be? They didn’t, because they never _listened_.

Draco did look around curiously as he walked into the kitchen and found no dirty dishes in the sink. By now, Harry would usually have eaten, and sometimes left out a portion under a Warming Charm for Draco. Well, no matter. Draco had had a good dinner with Astoria.

He fetched himself a glass of water and hummed under his breath as he walked into the drawing room. But he paused again there, thinking that something was wrong.

It took him long moments to notice the empty spot on the mantel. The crystal doe and stag leaping together that Harry always kept there in memory of his parents—a ridiculously sentimental gesture, Draco thought—were gone.

Draco frowned a little. Had Harry perhaps smashed them in a fit of temper? He knew he hadn’t touched it, and Severus wouldn’t do that kind of thing, and their house-elves could be trusted. Draco went upstairs, wondering if he would have to listen to tiresome complaints from Harry about his clumsiness.

The bedrooms upstairs were dark and empty. Draco frowned, peering into each one. No, it really did seem as if Harry and Severus were spending the night elsewhere. Draco couldn’t be surprised about Severus, not with the way he had been behaving lately, acting as if he could dissolve the triad before Draco had agreed on it.

But Harry didn’t like to spend nights away from home.

“Harry?” Draco called, and then sighed as he heard his own voice emerge from his lips, tired and impatient. He did his best to modify his tone. “Harry, it’s Draco. Did something happen? Where are you?”

Silence replied.

Draco hunted through every one of the rooms, and even cast a charm that would let him find Harry’s cloak and shoes, which he usually didn’t go out without taking. The charm replied that the house was empty, and so did his eyes. In fact, Draco found a second later when he stood in front of the cupboard Harry most often used, _all_ of his clothes were gone.

An unpleasant prickle clenched its way along Draco’s spine, but then he heard the fireplace roar below, and he turned, with relief, to walk down the stairs. Harry had probably had some fit of spite but was coming back now.

“Harry, where have you _been_?” Draco demanded as he rounded the corner of the last step.

“Where is he?” Severus, the one who had come through the Floo, straightened when he saw Draco.

Draco hesitated now. Severus was liable to mock him for worrying without a reason. But the empty cupboard was unusual enough for him to make the decision. “I think he’s gone. All of his clothes are missing, and so is that ridiculous statue of the stag and the doe that he kept on the mantel.”

Severus’s lip curled as he turned his head, and Draco’s heart warmed. However much he might need Astoria to have something new, at least he knew he and Severus shared a dislike of Harry’s sentimentalism.

There were things that Harry provided that he needed, too, of course, Draco added conscientiously to himself. But those seemed less important than the bond he had with Severus.

And Astoria…

Draco turned away so that he could hide his smile from Severus and not look as if was smirking or gloating at Harry’s disappearance. Truly, he was curious about what had happened to the git. Why vanish? If he had problems with them, he should confront them. That would be true to his Gryffindor nature and the traits he had exhibited since the war.

“Here.”

Severus had Levitated a piece of paper that had been lying on the table in front of the couch. Draco glanced at it and recognized Harry’s scrawl. He sighed. “Let me guess. A Weasley emergency has called him away?”

“No.”

Severus’s tones were hushed and shocked enough that Draco turned to stare at him. Severus kept staring at the note in turn, his eyes reading and rereading. He finally gave a deep shudder and turned to hand the note to Draco, plucking it from the Levitation Charm that still held it up.

Draco took it. The first thing he noticed was that it had their names, _Draco and Severus,_ with no salutation, and that made another prickle of unease climb up his spine. Harry virtually never did that. He always put _Dear_ at the front of a letter, even when he was writing nothing more than a quick owl to someone to confirm his attendance at a meeting.

He turned the note up so that he could see it, and read,

_Draco and Severus,_

_I think that you know as well as I do that our relationship is at an end. I don’t come first with either of you, and I know why, but I don’t see the point in fighting for things to change when I know you don’t really want them to. This is the end. If I accidentally took something of yours, owl me._

_H. Potter._  
  
Draco stared hard at the note, and then drew his wand. “ _Finite Incatatem!_ ”

“What are you doing, Draco?” Severus took the note book as if it was a precious thing that Draco could actually hurt.

“This isn’t real,” Draco said. He could feel the careful life he had built toppling beneath him like a heap of bricks, and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from straying in the direction of what would happen if it _was_ real. “Harry loves us. He wouldn’t leave.”

“He took his possessions.”

“It was a fit of pique. He’ll come back!”

“Why so desperate to deny it, Draco?” There was a shadow in Severus’s face, and he seemed to be looking beyond the walls and the fireplace mantel, as if they were barriers between his eyes and wherever Harry had gone. “You know as well as I do that what he says is true. Neither of us wanted things to change, but we have put him lowest on the ladder of our priorities.”

“Things _can’t_ change!” Draco blurted. Panic clanged in him like an iron poker falling on a marble floor. “It’s—I liked what we had! I liked the way it was!”

“Harry did not, evidently.” Severus turned and looked around the room as if he thought he would find something Harry had forgotten to take with him.

“I think he’s a spoiled brat, abandoning us just because we’re not home as often as he would like,” Draco snapped. He barely noticed the pain as his fingernails dug into his wrists. “Just because we have other interests—”

“Other _people_.”

Draco gasped. He had honestly never thought that the others would discover or care about his liaison with Astoria. Well, Severus had probably _known_ , but Severus had someone of his own. And why would Harry care? He must be afraid of things changing, but he wouldn’t want to speak up if he hadn’t so far.

Draco didn’t _want_ things to change. Astoria thought he would make some mad dash away from his life at some point and marry her. Draco had no intention of that. He was comfortable in his house, comfortable in his relationships with Harry and Severus. Sure, those might not be as deep now as they’d been in the beginning, but so what? He needed _both_ kinds of attention that the people in his life gave him, the worshipful kind from Astoria and the long-established kind flowing from Harry and Severus.

“He—he couldn’t know. Not for sure.”

“He has that damn Invisibility Cloak. Of course he could know. It’s not as though either of us would have noticed him following us.”

“But he—he hasn’t said anything,” Draco murmured, knowing he sound weak, and hating it. But Harry was the confrontational Gryffindor type, wasn’t he? He would have blown up if he knew. Not walked away and left a cold little note behind.

“Perhaps he felt the time had come when words were useless.” Severus nodded at the note that Draco still held, and which, he realized abruptly, had not disappeared when he cast the _Finite._ “That might be why the note is so short.”

“Well, we just have to get him back, then,” Draco said.

He stopped, because the look Severus was giving him was so withering that it made him feel as if his tongue should have shriveled up. He swallowed.

Severus, in response, turned and swept away in the direction of his lab.

*

Severus had not wished things to change, either, so he could understand part of Draco’s motivations. But simply Flooing Weasley and Granger, where Harry was likely staying, and demanding their Potter back would have no result. Not if Harry had reached the point where he felt that _neither_ of them cared about him, as opposed to thinking that of Draco because he had witnessed Draco’s antics with Astoria.

A more in-depth attack was needed. Severus had found his life provided what he needed, and would not willingly forsake it.

He sent an owl first, requesting a meeting. He did not say that Harry had accidentally taken any of his, which he thought later was probably his mistake. The owl returned with the parchment still folded, unopened.

So Severus went hunting.

Weasley and Granger’s wards would not have provided him with access—they never had—so Severus instead cast the complex tracking charm that worked with the bits of Harry’s hair he had collected and saved. He had foreseen that this day might come, although he had hoped it would not.

The tracking spell led him in the direction of Diagon Alley. Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and skillfully dodged the people who passed him, pondering the best strategy. He did not want this confrontation to occur in public. Perhaps waiting outside a shop until Harry emerged, and revealing a brief glimpse of himself, was the best policy. Harry would trust him enough, still, to follow him to a private spot.

Ahead of him, Harry stepped out of Flourish and Blotts. Severus was briefly surprised. Among Harry’s myriad attractions, a passion for reading was not one of them.

But he was not alone, and neither did the person with him have ginger hair or wild brushy brown hair and buck teeth. This was a young man with pale skin and dark hair, his eyes a bright blue, and fixed on Harry. Severus did not recall seeing him before, but that did not matter.

His chest was incandescent with the heat of his rage.

All this time, _Harry_ had had someone on the side, and yet he dared to be indignant that Draco and Severus indulged their needs elsewhere? Such should be _expected._ They had a need for refined, witty company and for pure wisdom and knowledge that Harry could not fulfill. But what could _Harry_ go seeking that he would not find with his partners?

Severus canceled the charm and stepped forwards. Harry glanced at him and started. But his eyes were clear of the guilt that should have been there. It made Severus want to strike him all the more.

“What are you doing here?” Severus asked, and his voice was low and deadly, and he could not be sure whether he spoke more to Harry or to the man who had intruded on his _property._

“Shopping,” Harry said, and still there was no guilt. “What are _you_ doing here? Did you want to talk to me about something that you don’t think you could put in an owl?” He shook his head. “There’s nothing we need to say to each other now.”

“Is there not?” Severus pointed at the young man, who gave his finger a look of baffled offense. “You were dating someone, and yet you dared to walk away from me and Draco because of what was supposedly the same sin!”

“No,” Harry said slowly. He sounded as baffled as his catamite looked. “I didn’t meet Theseus here until after I left you and Draco.”

“How in the world can that be true? It’s only been three days—”

“Severus.” Severus stopped speaking because of the sound of Harry’s voice, like pumice stone. “It’s been a fortnight.”

Severus stared at him in silence. It was true that the ink on the note had not been particularly wet, but—

“You and Draco are out so often that you didn’t notice.” Harry sighed. “When I didn’t even get an owl for days, that just confirmed for me that my decision was the right one.”

“You are _lying_.”

“Why would he want to be with someone who accuses him of lying and doesn’t notice he’s gone for eleven days?” Theseus, or whatever his true name was, shook his head and glanced at Harry. “You were right when you told me the people you used to be with were a waste of time. Do you have all the books you want, or shall we shop some more?”

“Harry Potter, shopping for _books_?” spat Severus, striking out because he had to, because he could not comprehend what was going on, because this was mad. “Surely he would be more at home in a broom shop?”

“That isn’t even the best insult you’ve given.” Harry shrugged and turned away, speaking to this Theseus. “Yeah, I think that new shop you said opened on the other side of Ollivander’s is worth looking at.”

They walked away. It would have been better if _one_ of them had glanced over his shoulder and smiled tauntingly. It didn’t have to be Harry. It could have been Theseus, exulting in stealing Harry from him.

But neither of them did. They kept moving, as if they had stepped into, _created_ , a new life around them, and Severus no longer mattered.

Or the past.

Severus stared, and ignored the cameras clicking around them. There were people who were going to find out this way, but they weren’t the important ones.

The important ones already knew.

*

“Now that you’re free, you can marry me, Draco!”

Draco gave Astoria a weak smile and played with his wineglass. They were at the same restaurant they’d eaten at on their first date, and all around them were marble walls and quietly singing fountains and drifting magical mist. It should have been—

It should have been perfect.

But there was a flat taste on his tongue.

“Isn’t that what you want, Draco?”

Draco took a deep breath and reached across the table to take Astoria’s hand. Of course it wasn’t what he wanted, what he wanted was the life he used to have, but he couldn’t tell Astoria that. She was beaming at him trustingly.

So trustingly. She might not notice if he found someone else, someone who could soothe his boredom and not tell him that she’d heard the same story twice already. It annoyed Draco so much when someone told him that. He knew he was a good conversationalist.

“Draco?”

“Of course it’s what I want,” Draco said, and lifted Astoria’s hand to his lips.

She beamed at him again, and that would do until he found someone who could _appreciate_ him.

*

“You are unusually snappish this evening, Severus.”

Severus glanced away from Ares. There had been a time when listening to the man, and debating Potions, and explaining his lack of interest in the small things his partners had done that day, had made Ares shine like a star in the darkness.

Now, Severus didn’t have to hide his interest. He could spend as much time in Ares’s shop as he wanted. The papers had focused on the “scandal” of his parting from Draco and Potter for only a day before they decided that Potter’s budding romance with Theseus Jarvison was much more interesting.

He was free.

The taste on his tongue should not have been flat.

“My apologies,” he said finally, and began listening to Ares speak again. It was on a convoluted theory of brewing with diamond dust that he usually would have found more than fascinating. Now the words rattled past his head like pebbles and might as well have fallen in similar uselessness to the floor.

What did it _matter_? The house that had been filled was now empty. And that should not have mattered but—it did.

Draco had moved out, back into Malfoy Manor or Astoria’s house, and let Severus keep the place. It should not matter who lived there now. He had spent years, months, not even noticing Harry’s absence.

Now he noticed.

“Severus?”

And once again, he had to shake himself back to the present and focus on Ares, the man he had—chosen. Not exactly. The man who had become his default when the rest of his life walked away from him.

Severus still did not understand what had happened.

And unlike the Potions theory Ares was explaining now, he thought he might never understand.

**The End.**


End file.
